


Be Good For Me

by LokiDoki221



Category: Dickensian (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Victorian Attitudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 05:46:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5900629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiDoki221/pseuds/LokiDoki221
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Compeyson has an unexpected request for young Havisham, who is all too eager to oblige him...</p><p>-o-o-o-</p><p>Meriwether Compeyson and Arthur Havisham are alone in Arthur's digs, and a blowjob occurs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Good For Me

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm getting really into Dickensian, a show on the BBC right now featuring the characters from the novels of Charles Dickens. The fandom seems mostly non-existent, but I had to write this fic because I am low-key in love with Meriwether Compeyson, who's kind of the worst of bad guys (we're talking emotional manipulation, extortion, violence... hell, the guy drowned a dog), but still somehow super-charming?? I mean, that's sort of the point of him I think, to be bad but charming, but he has this very intense relationship with Arthur Havisham, a closeted homosexual young man, and I can't help feeling something like this needs to happen to them, especially after the explosive end to episode ten...
> 
> Kudos, comments, requests, corrections and criticisms are all gratefully received. :) - Jae

'Havisham.'

Arthur looks up from the threadbare armchair, hair a haloing mess around his face, and meets Meriwether's gaze. The older man leans back in the metal bath tub, steaming water lapping around his chest.

'Yes?' Arthur's voice trembles just the tiniest bit, and how could it not, with a man like Meriwether naked and wet in front of him.

'I'm going to need something very particular from you tonight.'

Arthur shivers. He doesn't know what Meriwether's going to ask, but has a horrible feeling it will involve going out into the cold of the January night. Meriwether stands up, rivulets of water running down his defined form, tanned skin gleaming wet. Arthur swallows hard, and fights the erection he's sure he can feel beginning to rise beneath his underclothes. Meriwether smirks and plucks the neatly folded towel from the bed. Stepping out of the tub he rubs at his damp hair. Arthur tries to look the other way, but oh God, there it is, that perfect cock, the weight of it swinging slightly as Meriwether vigorously dries his hair. He moves the towel to his shoulders, and Arthur doesn't quite turn his head fast enough. Meriwether catches him looking.

'Well now, young Arthur. Are we seeing something we like?'

Arthur finds his throat dry. He can feel his face burning, and focuses his gaze over to the wall above the bed.

'I... I d-don't know what you mean.' He struggles to keep his voice even, and even as he cringes and trips over his words he can feel his own cock hardening. There's not going to be any coming back from this, but damn it, Meriwether knows his secret anyway. What’s the worst he can do?

Meriwether throws the towel at him, and laughs as Arthur startles and hurls it away from him like it may bite. He sprawls on the bed, naked and confident, limbs spread and taking up the entire mattress.

'Havisham,' he says again, and it's back to last names apparently. 'Come here.'

Arthur's heart catapults into his throat, but he stands obediently, unsure what else to do, and takes several cautious steps towards the bed. Meriwether has his hands folded and resting gently on his toned stomach, and there's a soft trail of red-brown hair running down from his navel to his groin. Arthur tries very hard to keep his eyes on Meriwether's.

'Good boy,' Meriwether says, and Arthur blinks back at him, speechless. 'Now what I need you to do,' he says, 'is to get yourself between my legs, and suck my cock until I come. Do you think you can do that?'

Arthur's stomach is turning somersaults. A croak is the only sound to escape his throat. Meriwether has said it like it's the most natural thing in the world.

'Come now, Havisham. You're better than that, aren't you? Or have your virgin lips never touched another man's member before?'

'I'm not a virgin!' Arthur blurts.

Meriwether laughs at that, hollow and short. 'Oh, darling Arthur, I'm sure that's true. But what kind of men have you been with, I wonder? None as high as yourself, I’d place money on that. I fancy you rather fell back to the poorer side of your roots. Now, what would have taken your fancy? A boxer off the streets, perhaps, or a barrowman?’ His eyes glint devilishly. ‘Or even closer to your heritage. I rather imagine it was housestaff, wasn’t it? Did your father catch you with the stable boy, Arthur? Is that what happened?'

Arthur's face has turned a redder shade of strawberry. 'A soldier,' he mumbles. 'Not a stable boy.'

'Of course,' Meriwether says easily. 'Of course a soldier. It would have to be someone who could protect you, wouldn't it? Someone to dominate you, discipline you? Fill the hole your father never could.' He smirks, propping himself up against the pillows, 'Both figuratively and literally.'

Arthur's knees have locked, and he stands stiff and awkward beside the bed. He has nothing to say to that. Meriwether has read him perfectly, of course. It's disarming.

‘Well?’ Meriwether says eventually. ‘What are you waiting for?’

‘I… I-’ Arthur can barely choke out a single syllable, let alone a coherent response, but he climbs up onto the bed, kneeling at Meriwether’s side.

‘Good God, Arthur, not there,’ Meriwether berates. ‘Between my legs. Come on.’

It’s all said so gently and so easily… Arthur doesn’t know what to think. Nevertheless, he shuffles around so he is between Meriwether’s spread legs, still refusing to look anywhere below the other man’s neck.

‘Arthur,’ Meriwether says meaningfully. ‘This shan’t work if you refuse to even look beyond my chest.’

If Arthur could blush any harder, he would. As it is he merely grimaces and swallows, wishing his heart could just slow down a little. It’s beating so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if Meriwether can hear it.

‘Go on Arthur. Do as I tell you. Look.’

He takes a sharp breath in, and fixates his gaze on what he has been so desperately avoiding. Meriwether’s cock and balls hang between his legs, surrounded by a well-maintained thicket of rust-coloured hair. Arthur gasps audibly, really seeing it for the first time, and Meriwether is laughing at him yet again, a devious joy echoing throughout the small room. He’s still soft, but bigger than Arthur, and the only other man Arthur has had the chance to really see.

‘You’re not hard…’ Arthur murmurs.

Something devilish flashes in Meriwether’s eyes. ‘I’m sure you can change that.’

Very, very cautiously Arthur reaches forward, not quite touching the willing body. His erection is straining uncomfortably against his underclothes and trousers now, and he’s not foolish enough to think Meriwether hasn’t noticed.

‘Go on, Arthur. Just as I tell you. Touch me. Touch it.’ 

Arthur’s breath is coming is short, shallow gasps now, the arousal and anticipation almost too much to bear. He goes to touch Meriwether’s penis, and at the last second thrusts his hand just slightly upwards, and strokes the line of fine hair below the other man’s navel.

Meriwether watches as Arthur’s fingers trail down until the hair becomes coarser, and notes the boy’s second of hesitation before he ever-so-carefully strokes down Meriwether’s considerable length. He feels it twitch beneath his fingers, and his heart leaps into his throat. Good God, he’s never felt anything like this before, not even back home, the first time he touched a man this way.

‘That’s it, Arthur. Just like that.’

Arthur nods, unable to find any words, and runs his middle finger down Meriwether’s cock from base to tip and back again. He feels it harden beneath his fingers as he wraps his hand around it, already thicker and longer than before. His hands have gone completely dry, but he can feel the redness of his face, the perspiration around his hairline.

‘You’re doing well,’ Meriwether praises, pushing sweat-dampened curls away from Arthur’s face. ‘Now, you’re going to do exactly as I say, you understand?’

Arthur nods, still kneeling before Meriwether as though he’s an ancient pharaoh, stroking his erection.

‘Let me hear it, Havisham.’

‘Yes,’ Arthur chokes.

‘Good boy. Now get your head low, and take me into your mouth.’

Arthur feels he may pass out at any second his heart’s beating so fast, but there’s no way he could say no to this, not even if he wanted to, which he doesn’t. God knows he doesn’t. He leans forward until his lips are just a hair’s width from the tip of Meriwether’s penis, the head just that bit darker than the rest of him. 

‘Have you done this before, Arthur?’

He nods, and Meriwether frowns.

‘I already told you, Havisham. I need to hear it. None of this nodding.’

‘Yes,’ Arthur says. ‘I’ve- I’ve done this before.’

‘I’m so glad,’ Meriwether says, the flicker of a smile playing on his lips. He’s quiet for a moment, observing Arthur’s prone form, eyes looking up at him through messy curls. ‘Alright. Put your lips around my cock, and take it into your mouth. Carefully.’ That last word is a warning, plain and simple.

‘Yes,’ Arthur thinks to say.

‘You are learning fast, aren’t you?’ Meriwether smiles as Arthur’s wet lips lock loosely around his tip.

Arthur has no idea how Meriwether can remain so composed at a time like this, he’s struggling enough as it is, and there’s no way he’s even looking halfway as unruffled. Although, that said, it’s a wonder he has any poise left at all. The times he’s imagined this, and damn it there’s been too many, it’s never quite gone this way, and no matter what, the thoughts have always been things he was sure would remain just that. He runs his tongue across Meriwether’s tip. It’s like being in a dream, somehow. He can feel his own cock beginning to leak.

Suddenly Arthur is reassured of Meriwether’s humanity as he moans gently.

‘Oh yes,’ he mutters. ‘That’s good, Arthur. You’re good. Keep on this way.’

Arthur continues to lick and suck gently for a few moments until Meriwether cuts in again.

‘Use your hands too, Arthur,’ he prompts, just slightly breathy. ‘There’s more to me than what you have between your lips. Play with my balls for me, too, there’s a good boy.’

Good boy. Arthur doesn’t know why the simple praise thrills him so much, but it does. He cups Meriwether’s balls in his hand, not sure what else to do.

‘Don’t just hold them. Move your fingers. Show me just how much you love my body.’

Arthur makes a sound that could have been ‘Yes,’ although it’s hard to tell whilst his tongue is still busy. He begins to stroke circles over the tender skin of Meriwether’s balls, tickling and cupping them by turns.

‘You really are quite the star pupil Arthur,’ Meriwether says, and it’s less the compliment and more the moan that finishes his sentence that pleases him.

He continues to lick and suck on Meriwether’s cock, and with the hand not currently holding the other man’s balls reaches into his waistband and puts a hand on his own cock, leaking pre-cum and throbbing painfully beneath his clothes. As soon as he does Meriwether reaches forward and grabs his sleeve. It’s all Arthur can do not to bite him as he’s jerked forward. He looks up at Meriwether, a thin string of saliva on his chin.

‘Did I say you could touch yourself?’ Meriwether says darkly.

Arthur shakes his head and makes the slightest effort to pull his arm back, but Meriwether doesn’t let go.

‘What was that?’

‘No,’ Arthur remembers.

‘Right. And you don’t do anything unless I tell you, understand?’

‘Yes.’

‘So I want your hands where I can see or feel them from now on. If you’ve got a free hand, you hold my ankle and nothing else.’ He looks down at Arthur, naked and propped up on the pillows, and somehow not the least bit vulnerable.

‘I’m sorry,’ Arthur says quietly.

‘There’s a sweet.’ Meriwether smiles, and gently twists a curl of Arthur’s hair around his finger. He tugs suddenly, viciously, and Arthur winces, barely able to keep his balance. ‘I want you to behave,’ he warns, releasing the hair. ‘Carry on.’

‘Yes,’ Arthur croaks.

He wants this man so badly, and he needs to touch himself, needs to release... 

‘More, Arthur,’ Meriwether instructs, his own breathing become just slightly ragged. ‘You need to take more of me now.’

Arthur obeys, taking more of Meriwether’s cock into his mouth and carrying on. He runs his tongue up the vein he finds down the back of it, and moves his hand from Meriwether’s ankle to the base of his cock, squeezing gently. The soldier showed him that.

‘You’re doing so well Arthur. Show me how much you can take in. Take all of me.’

Arthur isn’t sure if he can, but he leans even further forward, moving his hand from Meriwether’s cock, still playing with his balls in the other. Meriwether’s length fills him completely, there’s no way he’ll be able to take all of him, no way at all, but he does his best, running his teeth ever so gently down the tender skin, his own cock aching with need.

Meriwether moans pleasurably. ‘That’s good,’ he assures, and even he’s beginning to struggle for his words now. ‘I know you can do more though.’

He can’t. He knows he can’t.

‘Don’t test me, Arthur,’ Meriwether warns, but even Arthur can hear his resolve fading as the waves of arousal begin to overwhelm him.

He does try, he really does, but it’s too much, so he carries on as he is, drowning in his own arousal as he hears Meriweather groan blissfully. 

‘Alright Arthur,’ he says, and now the composure is falling away completely, he’s almost gasping for breath too. ‘I’m going to come, and when I do you need to swallow it.’

That… That he thinks he can do, although he hasn’t before. Meriwether thrusts upward suddenly, half-choking Arthur in the process. For a second he thinks he might gag, but somehow he manages, and squeezes Meriwether’s balls that bit harder.

‘Arthur,’ Meriwether gasps, coming hard into Arthur’s mouth with a final thrust of his hips. He holds the back of Arthur’s head down with his hand, keeping him there as he ejaculates. Arthur manages to swallow everything he’s given, unsure how much longer he’ll be able to go without coming himself, even without any contact. Meriwether takes his hand away, and Arthur comes up for air with a splutter, the remains of Meriwether’s climax still on his lips. He coughs and gasps and wipes his mouth with his sleeve.

Meriwether basks in the glow of his orgasm, steadying his breathing and letting the pleasure wash over him.

‘That was well done, Arthur,’ Meriwether says eventually.

Arthur nods and bites his lip, looking for a way to bring up the topic he badly needs to address.

‘I…’ he stumbles. ‘I need to…’

Meriwether pushes himself up on his elbows. A wet patch is growing on the front of Arthur’s trousers, and it’s really beginning to hurt him now.

‘The same rules,’ Meriwether warns. ‘You do exactly as I say. Take it out for me.’

‘Yes,’ Arthur says frantically, fighting with the buttons on his fly. He breaks one in his haste but he doesn’t have it in him to care, he needs release, Lord knows he does, and if he doesn’t get it soon he isn’t sure he won’t die. He pulls his cock free from its confines, swollen, flushed and throbbing. He almost comes from that touch alone, and feels himself teetering on the edge.

‘Not yet, Arthur. You do as I tell you, when I tell you. Look me in the eye.’ Arthur obeys. ‘You do have a pretty little cock, don’t you?’ He smirks, ‘I bet you like it almost as much as mine.’

At this, Arthur’s glance falls to Meriwether’s cock. He receives a slap across the cheek for his trouble.

‘I said, look me in the eye,’ Meriwether scolds.

‘I’m sorry,’ Arthur murmurs, brushing his fingers across his still stinging cheek.

‘Good boy. Now you’re going to touch yourself.’ He’s barely got the words out before Arthur’s hand is wrapped around his cock. ‘But don’t you even think about coming.’

Arthur’s not sure he’s going to be able to help it.

‘Hold on for me. I know you can do it.’

Arthur thinks he should say yes, but in that moment he can barely breathe, let alone speak, and merely grunts his affirmation, even as he feels the orgasm inside him building. He can feel the sweat running down his face.

Meriwether sits and watches him, messy and beautiful, unsure exactly how long he’s going to last. Arthur makes a noise like a choked moan, and Meriwether knows that no matter how hard he tries he won’t be able to hold on much longer. He clamps his hand over Arthur’s, smaller than his, and more delicate. Arthur’s grown up with servants to do all and any hard work for him, it’s no wonder his skin is like porcelain.

Arthur gasps as he feels Meriwether’s hand around his, squeezing him tight, and he’s going to come now, he has to, he won’t be able to do anything else. But… He really does need Meriwether to say he can. He doesn’t know why, but there’s no way he can do this without permission.

‘Please,’ he begs.

‘Yes,’ Meriwether assents. ‘You can come now, Arthur. There’s a good boy.’

And with that Meriwether takes his hand from Arthur’s cock and clamps it over his mouth instead as Arthur comes thick ribbons over his hastily pulled down underclothes and trousers. It goes over his hand and the bed as he continues, and he’s never in his life come like this, alone or aided. Meriwether’s hand presses dry and hot against his lips, and he’s grateful. He can hear himself moaning loudly enough as it is, and there’d be hell to pay if anyone heard. He feels his entire body go limp as he finishes, and Meriwether’s hand falls away. His head is spinning, and he slumps back against the bigger man, unable to stop himself.

‘Well done, Arthur,’ Meriwether says quietly. ‘Well done indeed.’ Extracting himself from Arthur’s seemingly boneless form he stands up and puts a hand into the bath, still confidently nude. ‘It’s still hot enough,’ he concludes. ‘Get those clothes off and yourself into that water.’

He looks down at Arthur, still panting, cock soft in his hand, and sighs. ‘Damn it, Arthur.’

Arthur looks up at him, glassy eyed. ‘Yes,’ he murmurs, and allows Meriwether to manhandle him into a sitting position. He is still feeling lightheaded as Meriwether pulls his shirt off over his head and his soiled trousers and underclothes off his legs.

‘Come on now. Into the bath,’ Meriwether instructs. Arthur stumbles to his feet, clumsy yet obedient, and immediately staggers backwards, legs still weak and tingling. Meriwether catches him easily.

‘Gods be kind to you, Arthur,’ Meriwether curses, scooping the youth into his arms and lowering him into the bath. Satisfied Arthur is unlikely to drown, he finds a pair of his own underclothes and a clean shirt to sleep in, and pulls them on. 

He sits in the armchair where Arthur had been earlier, and watches the young man in the bath on the verge of sleep.

‘Havisham!’ he barks, and Arthur jerks into wakefulness. He looks pointedly at the youth. ‘You’re stripping and washing the sheets once you’re clean.’

‘Yes,’ Arthur agrees, noting the change back to his last name with a hint of sadness. He sits in the cooling water, plucking up the courage to ask what’s on his mind, and waiting for his brain to come together again well enough for him to string a sentence into being.

‘Compeyson,’ he says eventually. ‘How do you… How come…’

‘How come I’m nothing like you?’ Meriwether fills in, a little harshly.

‘Well… yes.’

‘Because, my dear Havisham, I can do one thing you can’t.’

‘One thing?’ Arthur blinks at him, surprised that’s all it would take to be more like Meriwether, and less like himself.

Meriwether leans forward in the armchair, and doesn’t break their gaze. ‘I can fuck women,’ he says eventually. ‘And I can do it well. I can make them think I like it. Then I can take everything I want from them.’

Arthur has frozen still as a statue at the revelation.

‘Unlike you, Havisham, I can think of myself with a woman without wanting to vomit. I can even make her believe I like her, and like her body, too.’

‘Is that… Is that what you’re going to do to Amelia?’

‘If that’s what’s needed.’

Arthur shivers. The water around him is still warm.

‘But don’t worry, Arthur darling, that’s not what I intend to do with you.’

‘No?’

‘No. Given time and a little practice, I’m not sure I couldn’t come to care quite deeply for you.’

It’s all said so clinically that Arthur doesn’t know how seriously he means it. He swallows.

‘I’ll wash your hair for you,’ Meriwether says suddenly, stepping forward. He pushes Arthur’s head back unceremoniously into the water. ‘Just because you were such a good boy for me.’ He runs a hand through the wet curls, and cups Arthur’s chin in his hand with a smile.

‘I… I’d like to be good for you again,’ Arthur stutters, almost sure of what he’s implying. ‘If… If I could.’

‘I’m sure you could,’ Meriwether promises, and he moves his lips very close to Arthur’s ear, ‘but I’ll need to have my way with your sister first.’


End file.
